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Description
Once upon a time there was a boy. The boy had a mother and a father, but no brothers or sisters. Everyday, the father would go to work, and the mother would take care of the house. The boy was old enough to play by himself, but he did not want to.

Morning after boring morning was spent alone in the garden, while the mother was in the house. Afternoon after boring afternoon was spent in the house, while the mother was in the garden. The boy was lonely. He wanted a friend to play with, but there were not any other children around. It was quite the dilemma.

Then, one particularily boring day, he found the answer. If he could not find find any friends to play with, he would do the next best thing: he would create one.

It would be a boy, of course. All girls like to do is play dressup with their dolls. He then thought about how cool it would be to actually find a girl who liked to play in mud and splash in puddles.

The boy had an idea! Why not make it a girl then? He would create her after all. He could make her any way he wanted. It did not matter what his mother and father would think, as they would not have to know.

He could already see her clearly: a little girl, just a year younger. She would have wavy blonde hair and blue eyes, with a button nose, and a simple white dress. He named her Holly.

The boy was so excited. For the first time, he had a friend to play with. Holly went everywhere with him. She loved to climb trees and one of her favorite things in the world was playing in the mud. They played together every day and every night. When the boy went to bed, Holly climbed out the window to go home. One night, when the boy asked Holly where she went, she replied with, "Well where do you think I go?"

He sat up. "I think you go home to a field. Full of flowers because girls like that sort of thing. There's a cabin there. Inside there's a bed, and a table, and all sorts of things. There's a bookshelf, with lots of books on it, and paper for you to draw on. There are pictures too. Lots of them."

Holly nodded. "That's right!"

The mother and the father never knew about Holly, and the boy did not dare tell them. The father would tell him to grow up. The mother would laugh and say, "How cute!: They would not understand that Holly was real to him.

She was very real to him.

Holly was a faithful friend. Every morning she would come from her little house and sit with him through his lessons, and then play with him all day, finally going home at bedtime. There was not a single day she was not there, always waiting for him.

But there came a day when the father required the boy's help. The boy explained this to Holly, who understood and patiently waited for him on the front step of his house.

The boy enjoyed helping his father so much, that he stayed long after his father said he could go play, forgetting about his friend waiting for him. So that was the first  day Holly spent on the doorstep.

The boy apologized the next day for forgetting, and Holly forgave him. They spent the day in his room where he drew a picture of them together. He gave it to her to hang on the wall at her little house.

But a few days later, the father called the boy into work again, and once again, Holly found herself alone on the doorstep. This happened three more days in a row, where finally Holly stamped her foot and said, "I will be at my house until you call for me." And with that, she disappeared.

The boy was surprised. Holly had never gotten angery before. But he had been ignoring her lately. I will give her a day to calm down and then apologize. He thought. But, the next day when he meant to call for her, he spent the entire day working again. By the time he was done, he was so tired he fell asleep as soon as he got home. The next morning he got up and went to work again, meaning to call for her as soon as he got home, but once again, he came home and went straight to bed. A few more days and he forgot altogether.

Holly spent her days alone in her house, reading the books the boy had given her, and drawing pictures, or outside in her field watching the sky. The picture the boy drew of them together was still hanging on her wall. She waited for him to call her, but he never did.

One day, Holly decided she had had enough. She left her house, and ran across and out of her field. She ran and ran and never got tired. She ran through forests and swamps, and more fields.

She ran for days, and she didn't stop until she reached the boys house. When she finally reached it, the sight both terrified her and fasinated her at the same time. The boy-her boy-was sitting on the front step. But he was no longer a boy.

A man sat before her now. The chubby round cheeks, big eyes, and little patch of short brown hair were gone. In their place were narrow, deepset eyes, and his face was slightly hawklike. A hint of a beard was just visible on his chin. His hair was tied back into a ponytail.

Holly cried out and ran towards him, her arms swinging wildly. How happy he would be to see her again! They could play again and everything would be just like it was before.

The man got up and walked into the house.

Holly stood there, stunned, hurt, and angry. She quickly followed him into the house and into the kitchen. His mother was there, washing dishes. She was an old woman now, with gray hair and wrinkles. The man kissed her on the cheek and went up the stairs to his room. Holly followed him with no hesitation. She knew that room all too well.

But it was no longer the room she remembered.  The bed was missing and there were boxes everywhere. The only pieces of furniture were an old lamp and a dresser. Holly frowned as he picked up one of the boxes. He was just about to leave the room, but Holly blocked his way. Then he walked right through her. He immediately dropped the box and spun around.

Holly inspected herself to make sure she was all there, then looked back up at the man. He was looking around the room nervously, then he shrugged and turned away again.

Holly was outraged. "Hey! I'm here!" She yelled.

The man didn't even hear her. He picked the box back up and walked towards the door. Holly, even more enraged now, slammed the door with all of her might. "LISTEN TO ME!:

The man jumped back and screamed. Holly grabbed the lamp off the dresser and threw it against the wall. Terrified, the man finally actually looked at her. He finally saw her.

"No," he whispered. "That's impossible."

"What? What's impossible?" Holly asked.

"You're not real!" The man yelled.

Holly frowned. "Of course I'm real. I'm right here in front of you. You said you would call me. You never called me you know."

The man shook his head. "No! Get out! Get out!" He pulled something silver out of his pocket and held it out in front of him. It was a silver cross. "You are not welcome in here! Get out!" he screamed.

No sooner had he said those words and Holly found herself flying backwards out of his room and down the hall. She bounced off the floor painfully and toppled down the stairs. She lay at the bottom, gasping for a second, then pulled herself slowly to her feet. She looked up, and caught her reflection in a mirror.

Gone was the pretty little girl with light blonde hair, big blue eyes, and a button nose. In her place was a much older girl with short, thing, limp dirty hair, dull gray eyes held in a squint, and a bumpy nose that looked like it had just been broken. Blood began to drip out of one nostril.

The only thing that remained even remotely the same was her dress. This was so much in fact, that the hemline stopped just above her knees,  instead of halfway down her lower legs.

The man came crashing down the stairs with the cross. "GET OUT!" he screamed again. "YOU, ARE, NOT, WELCOME, HERE!"

Once more, Holly was thrown backwards and landed outside, face down to the dirt. The man slammed the door shut. Voices could be heard on the other side, trying  to calm him down.

Holly lay there for a long time, crying. Where had her boy gone? The boy she used to play with constantly. The boy, who lesson after boring lesson, she would sit with and keep company. She had never liked those lessons, but he had created her. It was the least she could do.

Her sadness turned into a black rage. How dare he! How dare he turn his back on her. After all she had done and put up with. And that monster had the balls to turn his back on her now? It had done something with her boy. It killed him. It destroyed him. It would have to pay.

So Holly waited. She waited outside in the dirt letting her anger swirl and grow, thinking about what had to be done. She watched the man's bedroom window knowing that that was not where he would be sleeping. So she watched the living room window instead. She watched and waited for the lights to turn off.

It took so long, but waiting came so naturally to Holly now, and that just made her even more angry, if such a thing was even possible. She sat and watched the house, without moving an inch. This man was so unlike the boy she remembered. Yes, that thing would pay dearly for destroying him.

Finally, after several lifetimes, every last light was out and Holly made her move. She crept up to the door and slowly opened it. The silly man did not even think to lock it. She saw the mirror again and once again saw herself for what she was. She was okay with that.

There he was, on a mat, on the floor, sleeping so soundly that it was almost a shame ruin it. But it had to be done. He had to be punished. So, gathering up every last ounce of her energy, Holly took a deep breath, and dove into his mind.

Half an hour later, Holly sat in the field. It was all weeds now, but that was better than flowers. Weeds don't stink like flowers do. Holly sat in the weeds, making chains and picking at leaves, listening to the bloodcurdling screams of a man trapped inside a nightmare he could not wake up from.

Description
Once upon a time there was a boy. The boy had a mother and a father, but no brothers or sisters. Everyday, the father would go to work, and the mother would take care of the house. The boy was old enough to play by himself, but he did not want to.

Morning after boring morning was spent alone in the garden, while the mother was in the house. Afternoon after boring afternoon was spent in the house, while the mother was in the garden. The boy was lonely. He wanted a friend to play with, but there were not any other children around. It was quite the dilemma.

Then, one particularily boring day, he found the answer. If he could not find find any friends to play with, he would do the next best thing: he would create one.

It would be a boy, of course. All girls like to do is play dressup with their dolls. He then thought about how cool it would be to actually find a girl who liked to play in mud and splash in puddles.

The boy had an idea! Why not make it a girl then? He would create her after all. He could make her any way he wanted. It did not matter what his mother and father would think, as they would not have to know.

He could already see her clearly: a little girl, just a year younger. She would have wavy blonde hair and blue eyes, with a button nose, and a simple white dress. He named her Holly.

The boy was so excited. For the first time, he had a friend to play with. Holly went everywhere with him. She loved to climb trees and one of her favorite things in the world was playing in the mud. They played together every day and every night. When the boy went to bed, Holly climbed out the window to go home. One night, when the boy asked Holly where she went, she replied with, "Well where do you think I go?"

He sat up. "I think you go home to a field. Full of flowers because girls like that sort of thing. There's a cabin there. Inside there's a bed, and a table, and all sorts of things. There's a bookshelf, with lots of books on it, and paper for you to draw on. There are pictures too. Lots of them."

Holly nodded. "That's right!"

The mother and the father never knew about Holly, and the boy did not dare tell them. The father would tell him to grow up. The mother would laugh and say, "How cute!: They would not understand that Holly was real to him.

She was very real to him.

Holly was a faithful friend. Every morning she would come from her little house and sit with him through his lessons, and then play with him all day, finally going home at bedtime. There was not a single day she was not there, always waiting for him.

But there came a day when the father required the boy's help. The boy explained this to Holly, who understood and patiently waited for him on the front step of his house.

The boy enjoyed helping his father so much, that he stayed long after his father said he could go play, forgetting about his friend waiting for him. So that was the first  day Holly spent on the doorstep.

The boy apologized the next day for forgetting, and Holly forgave him. They spent the day in his room where he drew a picture of them together. He gave it to her to hang on the wall at her little house.

But a few days later, the father called the boy into work again, and once again, Holly found herself alone on the doorstep. This happened three more days in a row, where finally Holly stamped her foot and said, "I will be at my house until you call for me." And with that, she disappeared.

The boy was surprised. Holly had never gotten angery before. But he had been ignoring her lately. I will give her a day to calm down and then apologize. He thought. But, the next day when he meant to call for her, he spent the entire day working again. By the time he was done, he was so tired he fell asleep as soon as he got home. The next morning he got up and went to work again, meaning to call for her as soon as he got home, but once again, he came home and went straight to bed. A few more days and he forgot altogether.

Holly spent her days alone in her house, reading the books the boy had given her, and drawing pictures, or outside in her field watching the sky. The picture the boy drew of them together was still hanging on her wall. She waited for him to call her, but he never did.

One day, Holly decided she had had enough. She left her house, and ran across and out of her field. She ran and ran and never got tired. She ran through forests and swamps, and more fields.

She ran for days, and she didn't stop until she reached the boys house. When she finally reached it, the sight both terrified her and fasinated her at the same time. The boy-her boy-was sitting on the front step. But he was no longer a boy.

A man sat before her now. The chubby round cheeks, big eyes, and little patch of short brown hair were gone. In their place were narrow, deepset eyes, and his face was slightly hawklike. A hint of a beard was just visible on his chin. His hair was tied back into a ponytail.

Holly cried out and ran towards him, her arms swinging wildly. How happy he would be to see her again! They could play again and everything would be just like it was before.

The man got up and walked into the house.

Holly stood there, stunned, hurt, and angry. She quickly followed him into the house and into the kitchen. His mother was there, washing dishes. She was an old woman now, with gray hair and wrinkles. The man kissed her on the cheek and went up the stairs to his room. Holly followed him with no hesitation. She knew that room all too well.

But it was no longer the room she remembered.  The bed was missing and there were boxes everywhere. The only pieces of furniture were an old lamp and a dresser. Holly frowned as he picked up one of the boxes. He was just about to leave the room, but Holly blocked his way. Then he walked right through her. He immediately dropped the box and spun around.

Holly inspected herself to make sure she was all there, then looked back up at the man. He was looking around the room nervously, then he shrugged and turned away again.

Holly was outraged. "Hey! I'm here!" She yelled.

The man didn't even hear her. He picked the box back up and walked towards the door. Holly, even more enraged now, slammed the door with all of her might. "LISTEN TO ME!:

The man jumped back and screamed. Holly grabbed the lamp off the dresser and threw it against the wall. Terrified, the man finally actually looked at her. He finally saw her.

"No," he whispered. "That's impossible."

"What? What's impossible?" Holly asked.

"You're not real!" The man yelled.

Holly frowned. "Of course I'm real. I'm right here in front of you. You said you would call me. You never called me you know."

The man shook his head. "No! Get out! Get out!" He pulled something silver out of his pocket and held it out in front of him. It was a silver cross. "You are not welcome in here! Get out!" he screamed.

No sooner had he said those words and Holly found herself flying backwards out of his room and down the hall. She bounced off the floor painfully and toppled down the stairs. She lay at the bottom, gasping for a second, then pulled herself slowly to her feet. She looked up, and caught her reflection in a mirror.

Gone was the pretty little girl with light blonde hair, big blue eyes, and a button nose. In her place was a much older girl with short, thing, limp dirty hair, dull gray eyes held in a squint, and a bumpy nose that looked like it had just been broken. Blood began to drip out of one nostril.

The only thing that remained even remotely the same was her dress. This was so much in fact, that the hemline stopped just above her knees,  instead of halfway down her lower legs.

The man came crashing down the stairs with the cross. "GET OUT!" he screamed again. "YOU, ARE, NOT, WELCOME, HERE!"

Once more, Holly was thrown backwards and landed outside, face down to the dirt. The man slammed the door shut. Voices could be heard on the other side, trying  to calm him down.

Holly lay there for a long time, crying. Where had her boy gone? The boy she used to play with constantly. The boy, who lesson after boring lesson, she would sit with and keep company. She had never liked those lessons, but he had created her. It was the least she could do.

Her sadness turned into a black rage. How dare he! How dare he turn his back on her. After all she had done and put up with. And that monster had the balls to turn his back on her now? It had done something with her boy. It killed him. It destroyed him. It would have to pay.

So Holly waited. She waited outside in the dirt letting her anger swirl and grow, thinking about what had to be done. She watched the man's bedroom window knowing that that was not where he would be sleeping. So she watched the living room window instead. She watched and waited for the lights to turn off.

It took so long, but waiting came so naturally to Holly now, and that just made her even more angry, if such a thing was even possible. She sat and watched the house, without moving an inch. This man was so unlike the boy she remembered. Yes, that thing would pay dearly for destroying him.

Finally, after several lifetimes, every last light was out and Holly made her move. She crept up to the door and slowly opened it. The silly man did not even think to lock it. She saw the mirror again and once again saw herself for what she was. She was okay with that.

There he was, on a mat, on the floor, sleeping so soundly that it was almost a shame ruin it. But it had to be done. He had to be punished. So, gathering up every last ounce of her energy, Holly took a deep breath, and dove into his mind.

Half an hour later, Holly sat in the field. It was all weeds now, but that was better than flowers. Weeds don't stink like flowers do. Holly sat in the weeds, making chains and picking at leaves, listening to the bloodcurdling screams of a man trapped inside a nightmare he could not wake up from.